When Snow Falls: Apprenticeship
by sleep walker38
Summary: A young boy named Alex roams the land of Snowfall, in search of a man that once fought against the same clan that cast him out in disgrace, hoping to find an ally to aid in his search for bloody vengeance, his heart consumed by the dark thoughts that drive him to fight for justice denied to him, and for those that were not so fortunate enough to be sent into exile.
1. Different paths, same destination

**When Snow Falls; Apprenticeship.**

* * *

 **Prolog.**

* * *

 **A Stranger named Alex.**

* * *

It was the cries of one so young being lead from his home in the dead of night that woke many from their sleep, gazing out their windows and doors with sleep filled eyes as they watched the terrible scene, none even looking as though they would put in even the smallest amount of effort in any sort of protest or attempt to end this cruel act playing before them.

How could they? This was a matter between family after all, nothing they need concern themselves with, which none did as they returned to their beds to sleep, many putting the disturbing thought from their minds as they did not care while even fewer did actually posses some concern for the boy being dragged away from his village. Yet no matter how much they thought wrong of this they would not interfere, in fear of what may become of those that did. These few wished to keep themselves breathing and their families safe in their home. It wasn't their child.

And it wasn't as if this wasn't a familiar event; a scene many had witnessed many times before, for children of the Nakajima clan who did not possess sufficient strength befitting their proud warrior's were considered worthless and were to be disposed of, no matter who that child belonged too. High or low class.

They had these strict standards for a very good reason, according to them at least. The warrior's of their clan had to be strong and fierce, they could not lack in either one. If a child did not meet these standards, the sentence was usually met with death. These were the future protectors of the clan and their secrets, whom their very survival depended upon. They could not risk the safety of their clan just to save one child, so if one was even below the standards they had set by a small bit than they were to be discarded, none willing to take that chance. No matter how much the slaughter darkened their hearts.

This is what had kept them alive thus far, and it was how it would remain. Even the dark deed of carrying out the sentence. If they simply let a child go, the secrets that they'd hidden for so long could be stolen, or the child himself taken captive and used against the clan.

Even if they did not meet the qualifications, they were still Nakajima born; they deserved death with honor, that much was given to them.

This was simply a step to ensure the clan survived, which is why it need be done. There could be no weakness in the clan, and weaknesses must be cut out before it could spread.

This child being taken away is one that would surprise many as he was well known. He was one of two sons to the Head of the clan, so for one to have been too weak from a bloodline as esteemed as it was not something easily believed. But no matter the parents of the child, he had to be removed.

The father dragged the boy along effortlessly, chains around his arms with the terrified child's head covered by a sack. He himself had dressed in a full plate armor, coloured dark and with spikes on the shoulders and their sigil knitted into the black cloak around his neck with silver thread, making it a horrifically grim sight as he carried with him as well a longsword, which he would presumably use on his young son.

The son kicked and screamed and clawed at the bag with all the strength he had in order to escape, but escape was not something easily done, a seemingly impossible task with how weak he was deemed. Even if he could, his father would be there to cut him down before he took his first step towards freedom, reduced to a pathetically sobbing mess who called out for his father and mother to save him, having no clue that it was this very person carrying out the deed.

He was dragged roughly through the grounds of a forest far from the village, where none could stop it if they wanted, far from the watchful eyes of the clan. Though as the sound of the boys pitiful whimpering and begging came, his kidnapper's rage grew, giving an especially forceful toss as the boy was thrown into the dirt. Before the child had the chance to regain his footing, the enforcer stepped upon the chains that kept his hands together, reaching down and taking the sack off of his head, the act burning same of the boy's skin as it was done furiously.

Immediately, he looked up to see the face of just who had taken him, and what he saw sent him into a hard silence. The eyes of the man he looked too, were the eyes that belonged to the one that had fathered and raised him. "F-Father?" He said weakly, not knowing what his former father planned.

His father shared no words with him though as he unlocked the chains that restricted his child's hands, stepping away as he turned to grab a small bag he'd taken with him for the journey. "Father?" The boy repeated once more, scared and confused beyond what his mind could fathom, wanting to know why they were there, eyeing the sword he held in fear as his mind raced.

Once more his words were met with silence, the boy looking towards the person supposed to protect him as he latd upon the boy for a long moment before dropping a bag before him. "Consider this a final kindness." The father of the child said with an uncaring tone, opening up the pack and revealing within it various supplies, a weeks worth at the most if he rationed it right, and even some armor fashioned from leather. Nothing to fancy or protective and a few sizes too big for the young boy, but it was all he'd had time to grab in his haste.

"What is this? I don't understand, father-" At his final words, the child was hushed by a swift kick to his stomach, the man that was no longer his father glaring at the injured bastard son of his. "I am no longer your father. My only son rest back at my village. You, Alex, are no son of mine. Our blood no longer gives us any connection." Holding onto the wound as stinging tears built up, he looked up at the man before him with a pain filled stare, not knowing why he spoke in such a way.

The man who he shared blood with quickly explained to ease his confusion, yet it did nothing to quell his shattered heart. "I could never bare such a weak son. Our clan is a proud one and with a strong bloodline. And you dishonor it. As such, you are no longer to call it yours. Gods help you if you ever call it yours." He said as he gripped the sword tightly before plunging into the ground, releasing his hold of it, as though to make his meaning clear.

Stricken with horror, Alex leaped to his feet, pleading for the man to take him back as his son and spare him of such a fate, his hands reached out for the man once called his father. "No father! Please! I'll do better! I'll train harder! Please!" Alex pleaded for his life, only to be struck down once more. In anger, the man who once called Alex son screamed out. "I am not your father! And you dishonor us further by begging!"

Sitting on his knees, Alex stayed down, not wanting to feel another strike as the pain of having is it be from his father was worse than anything, tears falling onto the dirt he'd been forced into. "You've been taken far enough that you won't find your way back. But make no attempt. For should you return, you will be slain for all to see. For all to know of the weakness we have shed from our home. Go and live your life however you wish, but you can never return."

He turned away from Alex for the last time to leave, speaking finally before he was left, free of the clan that would kill him. "You are now a Sura of our clan. Forever will this title brand you, for it is the rank given to those truly worthless, a sign of the weakness of the trash we have thrown away." With these final words spoken to him, the man left the broken son of his in the forest, not once looking back, for he could not find the strength to do so. Looking upon your abandoned child and seeing the hurt and confusion in their eyes was not something easily done, and even harder to turn from a second time. Had he done so, he would have gone back. And for the sake of them both, he had to leave, ignoring the loud cries of sorrow.

Even for one so young, Alex knew the weight that these words carried. To never return to his birthplace, and to forever wander ever further from his home and family, to forever be branded as his family's curse. As an embarrassment to what once was his clan.

Gripping the strap of the pack left for him, Alex silently picked it up, the events and his title heavily kept him down as he pulled the sword from the ground, weighing heavily with this knowledge alone. Now forever cursed with his new rank, Alex looked around his surroundings in some hope of finding himself a way back, just to see if he knew where home was. He was left in a small forest clearing, not knowing which way his father had taken, but knew what would come with trying to find his way back.

Having all this forced upon the youngling, Alex looked to the sky and wailed out as if this was a nightmare he could awaken from as the darkness of the forest surrounded him.

* * *

 **Three years later.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1.**

* * *

Thunder roared all around me with a screeching furry while lighting danced around in the sky, yet not even this was enough to wake me from my nightmares, as few things could once I was deeply asleep. It wasn't until I'd relived them in their entirety that I was finally free from their torment, still just as vivid as ever, opening up my eyes to the world from a night of my fresh hell, looking up to the rafters from the waiting benches of the station to see small droplets of water drip down onto my face, having given any passers the illusion I'd been crying during my sleep. These were the tears I'd never cried, but still kept scrubbing off my face all the same. Only, I didn't cry about it anymore. That had long since passed.

With an annoyed huff I wiped off all that had collected on me with the sleeve of my jacket, hissing some as it stung my eyes for a moment before I scooted away into as dry of a corner as I could find, if only to make sure my bag was untouched, opening it up for a quick look inside to check its contents.

The outside of the bag was damp as the rest of me was, but nothing inside had been ruined by the cold rain, closing it back up once I was done with my inspection, hoping the train would soon arrive so that I could get into a fresh set of clothes without their getting wet as well, sick of the constant rainfall. Made the snow that much more of a bitch. If you left the rainwater on yourself long enough, it'd freeze over in just a few minutes, thankful I wasn't such a deep enough sleeper that I couldn't awake when I needed too.

I was one of a few here at the pickup station, all us here moving onto the next town over for our own reasons I suppose, be it work, home, or something else. None there paid me any mind, and neither did I in regards to them, for we shared a destination and nothing more, so none should care for my reasons for travel, and I would care none for theirs.

My reasons were my own and unless theirs aligned with mine then that would remain unchanged. Truth be told, I didn't exactly know where I was heading, I only knew who I was looking for. I knew not his name, or what he looked like, just someone from my past that had resurfaced. Not my direct past, but something to do with it.

I had nothing going for me as it was; no home, no family to call my own, and no kingdom to serve. So this was basically the last thing I'd ever do ever I had nothing else to do; chase down a forgotten shadow. It was why I'd come to Snowfall in the first place, after all, having arrived in this frozen land only a month ago. I'd been traveling through it ever since, having just gotten into the icy regions of it, maybe a day or two before. Maybe three. I scarcely remembered as I didn't often sleep, so the days tended to blend together most times.

But...This man I searched for...I didn't know much about him, just reports that came from my homeland, what little information I could squeeze from those that had traveled it, seeing as I was forbidden from ever stepping foot on it under threat of execution, so I tended to avoid those I found outside that hailed from Nakaroshi, the place the Nakajima had settled as their homeland.

I didn't know if he was alive, but there were faint whispers of his continued existence, and none of them good, at least for the people who spoke of him, this person having given quite a few people some trouble, especially for my former clan of the Nakajima. And by the gods was I happy to hear every word of it.

From what I understood, this man once belonged to the clan, same as I, but left of his own accord, no longer able stand the apparent corruption that had taken hold, the kind of corruption that was rooted so deep, they'd exile and kill their children for the sake of some notion of preserving honour, as if there was any in killing a child as old as 5. I'd been spared the fate of death and given exile. Sometimes I thought my fate was the worse of the two.

It was a thing to behold really. To believe there ever was a time the Nakajima didn't sacrifice their children for their perceived weakness. When they were more honorable and defended those same children, took the time to raise them proper. This is a time I wish I'd known, for all I had ever been shown during my time amongst my kin was cruelty and savagery as they shunned me. To the point my parents had exiled me in shame. A betrayal that no longer hurt, not even when my nightmares forced me to relive it.

I understood now what my father and former clan were well enough that my tears had ceased to fall over it. No longer did I cry when the thoughts came to mind, as they were not worth my tears. I was left with only a burning desire to right the wrongs done to me and those they'd casted aside; their son no longer a son, long considered dead.

I looked up to the heavens as they cried in my place, flashing a strange smile that I didn't understand, one that appeared each time I thought of the clan I'd left behind, dead at my feat with their blood decorating the same sword I'd been given. How badly I wanted to return it to the man I once called my father. Bury that very blade deep in his chest and watch him writh, make him beg just as he had watched me. And when he begged for mercy, right at the very moment he couldn't take any more, I'd look down at him, all of our kin slaughtered, and whisper to him, "No."

Sometimes I wondered how deep the thirst for vengeance ran. If perhaps it had driven me to a point of insanity. Sometimes I'd laugh a sad and terrifying laugh to ease my pain. And sometimes I'd lash out in anger. Whatever the case, I didn't care a single bit. My rage was all I had some days. The only thing that drove me forward when I was cold, beaten or hungry. Even now, it was what spurred me on towards something I hadn't had for the longest time; A goal, a mission, and a reason to live my life.

From the very moment I'd heard of this man's return, and remembering that which he had done once before, I felt compelled to seek him out, not only in gratitude, but to learn a truth I desperately needed to uncover. One that I felt was mine to learn.

I'd have been content to have just sat there for a bit longer, but the sounds of the train approaching stired me from my trance as I grabbed my bag up from the seat besides me, standing just in time to greet it as the large vehicle pulled into the station only a few minutes late.

This man had vanished from the clans records after having laid waste to most of it's leadership, something those of the clan denied with every breath, having stolen the most powerful of techniques from the sacred vaults before he disappeared entirely with that power all to himself. Many assumed in the passing years that he had died after having fled the homeland of the Nakajima, only to resurface some time later in the following decades from when he had left them. What happened after that wasn't something I knew, but I'd heard that the Nakajima had sent war parties after this man, to both kill him and recover their stolen power. I found it ironic that we killed our children to preserve our secrets, but a lone warrior was able to stroll into our most heavily guarded vaults and steal them away.

I hoped to find him before the clan did and warn him that these assassin's had learned that he was still alive, and were quickly moving to end him for those transgressions he had committed so long ago. I also had hope that in doing so, I would gain a possible ally in the coming conflicts against them. I knew how power hungry they were, and this land was vast with a great number of resources; no doubt they'd already set their sights on the conquest of this place. When that time came, I wanted to be there, to establish myself as an asset against them. Because if they attacked like I knew they would, it wouldn't be long before these kingdoms would seek retribution. I figured when that happened I'd be welcomed in the fight against them, and if not, I'd make my way home on my own and greet my family by gutting my father and slaughtering the lot of them, to remind them about why they killed Suru's such as me.

There weren't alot of people that would relish the thought of running each member of their family through with a sword, but once those very thoughts had planted themselves in my head, a sickening grin crept across my face as I erupted into a darkly crazed laughing fit, throwing my head back as the mad crackling echoed out, hopefully reaching the ears of my clan, to let them know their exiled son was coming home. I would only be doing the world a favor, because if it wasn't me holding the knife and slitting their throats, it'd be someone else. You could only push people so far before you found a knife in your back. I didn't pretend this was some kind charitable act I was doing though, I didn't give two shits if this benefited the world or hurt it. That was the promise I'd made to myself a long time ago, one I was going to see through.

This strange and murderous laughing of mine had disturbed every onlooker, each person there afraid to take a single step from their safe little circles in fear that'd I'd snap and draw my blade, just as quickly turning it on them. So cold was their fear that they became just as frozen as the land around them, huddled away and praying for the mad demon to go away. Those getting off the train made a much more hasty retreat to get off the moment they heard my call.

My laughter died down soon enough until it ceased all together. I figured I'd terrorized these people enough, gathering my bag as I made for the train, watching with some amusement as no others had stones large enough to join me, even though the next train wouldn't reach the station for another set of hours. I was happy enough with this as it left me the the only person occupying this train, apart from the crew, and that was fine by me.

I made my way through the rows upon rows of empty seats, jokingly pretending my decision of where I would sit was a difficult one before finally choosing the window seat of the middle section of the cab, enjoying the extra breathing room as I heard the familiar cry of the conductor as he issued the final call, yet watched with a strange intrigue as no others climbed on board. They had only a few minutes left to steel their nerves before the doors closed on them forever; to brave the same train of horrors that the murderous child was riding, to risk a run in with him and his sharp sword, or be left behind in the freezing rain.

By the time they shut the doors, no others had gotten on the train, watching as it rolled away from them, leading to their belief that they had been saved from the demon child fresh out of hell, as if they knew what hell even looked like.

It wasn't until a day later that I would learn that soon after the train had departed, a party from the Blood Fist, a group of marauder's that hunted much of the land, would storm through the station, killing just about everyone that had been present. Not because they were looking for some kind of treasure or some poor unfortunate souls with fresh ass or cunt for them to stick their cocks into-one of which they'd probably found-but because they'd been looking for shelter to get out of the coming storms. After I heard what had happened I never could stop wondering if some of the casualties had included those poor bastards that hadn't gotten on the train with me, and that alone had filled me with a touch of guilt. They'd have raped, enslaved, and gutted each person there. There were no guarantees in our world, they had simply chosen wrong. I wouldn't have harmed them. But I still knew that in many ways, I had. Another day later, my guilt passed, along with my caring that it had even occurred.


	2. Violent tendencies

**When Snow Falls: Apprenticeship.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2.**

* * *

 **A Stranger named Alex.**

* * *

I looked down at the map of the entire city as I found myself wandering down the sidewalks in some confusion, trying to figure out where in the hell I was exactly. It was a large place and I'd never once stepped foot anywhere in this fucking labyrinth of a town until now, but I should still be able to look down at this piece of jumbled up mess of writing on paper and figure out where the fuck I was, but no matter how many times I studied it, I couldn't find a single point of reference that would guide me.

"Fucking nine hell's. If you're gonna make an overly detailed map, scale-to-size or something!" I screamed out in frustration as I tore the map apart, only regretting what I'd spent on something that had essentially just become litter and mulling over my ideas to go back to the information booth I'd found when I'd arrived and break the kneecaps of the scam artist running the god's damn thing, then break them again! Maybe he'd learn how to make a decent map during his stay in a hospital, hopefully being the shitty kind of place because I was just that cross. A few round trips in and out of a medical facility had to be good for the soul, after all, maybe open up a few eyes, especially with such a severe case of broken as hell kneecaps. I was optimistic he wouldn't learn his lesson though, because I figured being the one to put him there was just as nice, especially when it was repeatedly.

I just let out an angry filled sigh before not bothering to even think about it; throwing a tantrum over it wasn't gonna do me much, and I didn't need anything else added onto my troubles, run in's with the local law enforcement being one of them.

No map and no real idea where in the city I was. I was right fucked, wasn't I?

"Right in the down under," I said with an all too familiarly angry bitch tone to the sound of my voice as I took my palm to my face in annoyance, walking on with aimless intent as I figured at some point I'd stumble upon something that'd put me back on the right track.

"The right track was about three miles back that way," I told myself as my fingers reminded me of the direction I'd come from, back at the information booth outside the station. "Your dumb ass just happened to stop at not only the cheapest fucking looking stand but also buy the cheapest fucking map he had."

I always tended to have small arguments with myself, both in my head and right out in the open. Like a fucking madman. I'd gotten the same looks enough times by now to understand what I was.

"And that is?"

A gods damn lunatic.

"Everyone's a bit crazy. Why am I singled out for being just a bit more than normal?" Because those people didn't spend just about every waking moment in a constant discussion with themselves? Maybe? "As far as you know."

I pondered the question as I spotted a small bar or saloon not too far off in the distance, some kind of entertainment district surrounding it.

It was old, run down, and had dirt covering just about every inch with an even worse bunch standing outside it's doors. How this place and them could go so long without a wash was beyond me; months judging by the stench. All manner of low tier scum from just about every walk of life gathered around, already drunk or close to getting there. God's only knew what bad choices in life had led these men and women here to the same place as me.

Before I entered this fine and respectable establishment, I took a moment to let my gaze fall to a smiling woman, being harassed by about three overly intoxicated men, all reeking of about a week's worth of old sweat and booze and acting more aggressive than they needed to be as they inquired her about her services. Something told me they'd picked up a bottle one day and never stopped drinking, yet I wasn't focused on them.

The girl was maybe 13 or 15, just at first glance. Another one told me she was a prostitute, just out on a nights work, but looking at her, I started to think of myself, and the position I was in. It wasn't my bad choices that'd lead me here in the pit of the city, it was someone else's. How many others here had the same story? And was it my story she shared? Stuck in the same boat with no way off as he drifted through a river trying to drag us down into dark depths.

I caught sight of her meet my gaze, and for a moment we just stared back at each other. I could almost see her pleading with me to save her, but a moment was all we shared. I turned my eyes and walked through the doors. I wasn't a savior. I couldn't save her. I was still trying to save myself. If I was any body's last hope, then they were as fucked as I was.

Passing through into the building, I almost recoiled in disgust as the stench was so much worse than what I'd smelled outside, ignoring whatever toxic gas lingered in the air as I walked up to the bar and took a seat, listening to the tunes coming from an old piano somewhere in the place played by some drunk bastard playing it to the best of his abilities. It was still shit work. If this was who they'd hired, they were probably paying him in drinks.

I scouted out everyone in the place, since I would be sharing space with them for a time, mostly to pass time and make note of anyone that might cause trouble, or give me the help I needed. I was looking for either a ride to take me further into the territory, or work that would have me head out that way. Nothing of noteworth was found, just sadness and whiskey from all those there. Nothing that would aid me, or anything I was interested in. I did take notice how much more filth covered the area actually was on the inside. Like someone had just taken heaps of shit and thrown them just to see how far they could reach. And I wasn't just talking about how clean the place was. Its clientele wasn't much better.

Eventually, the bartender made her way over to me as I looked out across a sea of drunkerds, watching grown men and women fight and piss every cent they had just to forget about the world for a few hours, or for enough cash and if they were in a dark enough place, they could drink or fuck themselves to death. It was almost sad really.

She stared down at me with a strange gaze, looking me over some with interest. I didn't imagine she saw many people walk through her doors being my age, but in this town, I knew she'd seen it more times than she'd cared to count, or if she didn't happen to care who's hands lined her pockets with gold, didn't keep count at all. Whatever made her a living. "How old are you kid?" She asked with an inquisitive tone as I looked back to her with a kind of annoyed huff.

"42. The fuck do you care?" I retorted as I turned back in my seat to face her, getting a shrug out of her with a glare thrown in, slapping her hands down on the bar. "You're right, I don't. But it concerns me if you can't pay. Do you even drink?"

I immediately threw a couple of copper coins onto the counter at her to answer her question, a blank and almost dead expression on my face as I looked at her. "Only on my good days."

She seemed a bit surprised by this, probably more use to the bums that didn't pay their tabs and tried to stiff a few drinks.

"And on the bad?" She questioned me as she grabbed for the cleanest glass she had, which even then, wasn't saying much as it still had a touch of grime smeared across it. "I get drunk," I said to her as I took the glass and waited for my drink. "What's your poison?" She asked, looking at the selection of drinks she had, nothing that peeked my interest, but I'd drink what she had available. "Just pour me whatever those coins will get me." I told her, getting her into work as she grabbed what my coin would get me; A bottle of Silverhill Bourbon was what she poured me. Bourbon wasn't my favorite, especially Silverhill, but it was just to start off. I grabbed my glass and threw it into the back of my throat, twisting my face up some for a second before it passed, and I finished off the rest. Shit was even more foul than I remembered, but a drink was a drink.

"What brings you through my doors, love?" She asked in an almost flirtatious sugary tone as she poured me another, making sure I could clearly see her tits, and when I went to pull out the coin to pay, she raised her hand up to stop me. "On the house." She said with a wink.

I wasn't looking to fuck tonight, if that was her way of getting some extra coin out of me if I got drunk enough. It'd only leave me depressed and regretful anyway, so I just blew off all the coming onto. My age didn't seem to matter if that got her my cash, I thought of her. Maybe she was depraved enough.

I nodded in appreciation before taking it, downing it, and placing the glass back on the counter, before she'd changed her mind. "Much obliged. Now, as to why, I'm looking for someone that knows the land well enough to guide me where I'm going, and if no one here that fits that description," I said, knowing full well there wasn't a single one here that did. "then maybe some work." I explained myself to her as I held my glass up, to which she flashed a smile; I wouldn't get another free one so soon. The work would be very welcomed, down to about 10 pieces of silver and some leftover copper. The last thing I should be spending coin on was these shitty drinks, but I'd been around these types of scenes enough to know how to get bartenders to cooperate. Flash a little money their way, down whatever they poured you, and you only had to worry about getting them to shut up before they had to worry about you not shutting up.

I rolled my eyes and threw in more than last time. "None of that bottom shelf crap. Give me the good shit." She pocketed my money once more with a grin and reached for something better tasting, and to my delight, pulled off a bottle of cinnamon whiskey, my eyes flashing in pure delight as she filled up my cup once more. I preferred whiskey to anything else; I found it just strong enough to make me reach that particular level of inebriation where I forgot about my troubles, but not enough to get drunk quickly. "Watch how much you drink kid. You don't want to get shit faced around here."

I took the glass and raised it to her in appreciation for the tip before chugging my choice of drink, shivering in delight the moment it hit, feeling warmed by its sweet and bitter touch. Sometimes when I drank whiskey, it was almost what I imagined being embraced by a mother that didn't love you felt like. Sweet to a child that needed affection, but that fucking bitterness because you knew she didn't give a fucking shit about you. I didn't actually know that feeling because I'd never even gotten that from my own mother. And that rightly pissed me off.

"Another," I told her in a darker tone than I'd had seconds ago, to which in a touch of fear, she poured me another round without getting my next payment out of instinct or preservation. He life wasn't worth a few more drops, and I polished it off just as quickly, feeling my rage subside for the time being as I relaxed. But as soon as something else came along, I'd get just as furious. When the whiskey started coming, I started throwing my fist around, usually not far behind the first swig. One cup was enough to get my blood boiling, two calmed me down, but kept me on edge, ready to fight. And three was somewhere in between. These poor bastards didn't know me well enough to keep their heads down when I started hitting the sauce, and I didn't care enough to warn them. Gods help them if I ever hit four.

"If you've got any leads I'll pay." I told her as I flipped my cup over and set it down, signaling I'd had my fill.

"Depends on where you're headed." She told me as she grabbed a booklet from her counter, to what was written in its pages I didn't know.

"Any other major cities I guess." I explained to her before she grabbed a map as well, opening it up and showing me all of the territory. "There's only about three other major cities," She explained as her fingers drifted along the paper, showing me where each was. "We're in Lance right now, it's the farthest from Winter-Moor," she flashed a smile as she told me some of the city. "It's also the shittiest. Percy is the closest to it, but that's pretty down east wise. That's maybe a week or two at best, and then it's even longer to actually get to the colony."

"There's only four cities in this entire kingdom?" I asked her, confused some.

"Big place, I know, but there's more towns and villages scattered around each city."

I studied the map extensively, somehow surprised to see a map actually worth a damn, and wondering if I could steal it off of her.

I would guess this Winter-Moor would be a very good place to start my search in earnest, being the epicenter of this country and all from what I'd heard, but I didn't have the time to waste on that. I had to think about this from the perspective of a man on the run from dangerously deranged assassin's tracking my every move. If I were hiding out, it'd be somewhere out of the way, somewhere I wouldn't go to for any reason whatsoever. Where nobody could find me.

A place so back alley and inconvenient, you'd get lost the second you took one wrong step, someplace I could get lost in myself. That eliminated the capital itself, too well known and too crowded and busy. Too many people to watch out for. Easy to get lost in, sure, but not enough to keep myself hidden for long. Which also meant any other major cities were out of the question as well. Maybe a small town. Maybe not even then.

She spoke more about the territory and its landmarks and livings, but I tuned it out some as I spotted one place to the far northeast, nothing shown on the map in its place, and nothing surrounding it for miles. Just an empty nothing all around. It wasn't like the other places on the map, there wasn't even a small town near it.

If I were a betting boy..."And I am, it's a serious problem..." I mumbled under my breath, which the bartender passed off as drunken ramblings, then that's where I'd wager he'd be.

But because I didn't have anything to go off of, it was a real long shot. Call it a gut feeling, but it was a strong one. This way I could still pass through Winter-Moor, just to be sure.

"What's the quickest way to get to the capital?" I suddenly asked her, to which she opened up her book and read from it. "Well, I have a caravan delivering a shipment to Percy at the end of the month, that's the best I can do for you. And if you're looking for work, I can take you on as a guard."

I thought about my options at that point; This probably wasn't the only choice I had, but the end of the month was only about 4 weeks away at the most. This was also a paying gig, and in the meantime, I could probably learn some more about the territory itself. Maybe find myself a better option, but in the meantime, this was a fallback.

"What makes you think I'm qualified for this?" I asked her before she motioned to the blade holstered on my hip. "You seem like you can handle yourself well enough, otherwise I doubt you'd have walked through my doors."

I gripped the handle some after her mention of it. The sword was more of a keepsake than anything, and while I'd never drawn it on another person before, that didn't mean I hadn't practiced with it of course. I was pretty good with my fist too. Yet I'd never actually killed anyone, that kind of violence wasn't my forte, never needed too, but I'd bloodied my fair share of noses and broken enough bones to know how to keep on my feet. Mostly potential rapist and thieves. They never expected someone my age to put up much of a fight. I'd lost count of how many of them I'd come across, though they weren't always after me. I had a bit of a soft spot for other pariah's when I drank.

"What's it pay?" I asked her, to which she got a pen and added another name to the crew of the caravan. I assumed the pay was good if she'd taken to doing so even before my answer.

"How's 25 Silver sound?" She offered me, to which she had been right. That wasn't something I'd turn down easily.

"Less than 30." I said, which was also fair, considering the distance of the trip and the time it would take, even if I was heading out that way. I wasn't stupid. I had a policy of always having enough on me to make a big purchase if an expense like that ever came along, mostly in case I needed to pay for a steep ticket for passage. This was basically killing two rocks with one bird.

I was really glad I hadn't drank anymore.

"Deal." She agreed almost immediately, worrying me some. I'd never been able to haggle that easily.

"What's the catch?" I questioned her, suddenly suspicious of the job.

"No catch, just not enough people were signing on. I was actually considering cancelling my shipment this time around," She said with a smile, since this job was almost guaranteed danger now, and we'd already made the deal. "But with you, I've got just enough to safely send the crew."

I groaned some before nodding. Hopefully, I'd find that better option. I'd play along for now.

"What's your name hun?" She asked as she gave him a small bottle of cinnamon whiskey for my troubles and as a reward for saving the day.

"Alex Sinbad." I told her as I took the bottle, watching her write my name down before she also handed me a bag of what sounded like coin.

I looked at her a tad confused, but happily took it, not wanting to be rude. My bullshit excuse to be selfish. "An extra 20 Silver, as a sign on bonus."

I appreciated the extra cash on hand, grabbing for it before she changed her mind, only to have her hand latch onto mine.

"Be here exactly four weeks from now," She told me as she shot me a glare, squeezing it some to make sure I listened. "And don't you even think about running off before the job is done, you hear me?" She threatened me with a wave over to a few brutish looking thugs who sent a smile my way, armed to the teeth. Her collectors and enforcers no doubt.

"Yes ma'am." I said with a nod as I took my belongings and moved from my seat, leaving the bar and this god foresaken establishment behind as I made my way towards the exit. I was just honourable enough to follow through on this because of my word alone. That, and because I'd already taken her money for the job. Her goons were also an incentive to not cross her, but I wouldn't tell her that. I wasn't too worried about them regardless. If there ever was an aspect about a job that concerned or worried me, I wouldn't take it, and her crooked thugs weren't even a passing thought.

Even if I had been, I still would have taken the job. This was a rare opportunity for me to be paid, to travel to where I was going no less. Hopefully, I didn't find myself getting fucked over this time around.

I looked down at the bottle of my favorite drink as I made my way out, more than happy to be on my way with one for the road, pressing my thumb against the cork, a quick snap of it popping the damn thing off with one fluent motion, moving it towards my lips for a sip as my I started thinking about where I was gonna sleep for the next few days, drinking enough to match the amount my glass had held.

I think for tonight, I was gonna drink the rest of my whiskey, find a tree to piss under, then a different one to sleep beneath.

Before I could find said trees, I picked up the smell of fresh blood break through every other stink that protruded from the bar, feeling any warmth from my body leave as my own froze from what I'd caught in the corner of my eye, then it just turned into fire as I walked towards the alley, finding a familiar face slumped against the wall with a bloodied lip and brushing along both arms and neck, that same girl I'd seen now had tears streaming down her face.

She didn't show any reaction to me approaching her, just looked up at me with a pleading expression that I wouldn't hurt her any more than she had been; weakly raising her hands up with the little strength she had left. She didn't raise them in her defense, she just started to sign with her hands. She was mute.

I felt angry tears sting my eyes as I crouched to get closer to her, watching as she recoiled some. But I didn't lay a finger on her.

Then something else caught my attention; Three drunk and about to be very sorry fucks walking down the alley, laughing a wickedly cruel laugh with smiles on their faces.

They'd beaten a girl that couldn't even call for help, and the fuckers walked on with god's damn smiles, laughing it off as a good time.

Seething rage rose in me, twisting up inside along with guilt that I'd ignored her, feeling responsible that I'd found her this way.

I didn't care about people. I didn't like to care about people and their problems, it just added on to mine. But I'd been drinking tonight. And unfortunately, I'd drank three classes worth, and when I did, that hard wall I put up between myself and the rest of the world came falling down, crumbling all around me as I took the first few steps after them.

I suddenly felt myself held in the same place, something not letting me move. When I looked back, I saw her, holding my hand so I wouldn't go as she looked at me with worry and fear.

I didn't know if she was just scared and didn't want to be left alone, or if she was honestly concerned I'd get myself killed, but I didn't care.

For a split second, looking at her I could see myself all those years ago, huddled pathetically as tears ran down my cheeks. I almost stayed by her side, to offer her aid and comforting words until helped arrived, but then I took a closer look at her.

She was even younger than what I'd first thought. She was 11 or 12. Just a little older than me.

Being that close to her let me see how much smaller she really was; Skinny and frail. She wouldn't have put up any kind of fight, especially against three grown men.

I gritted my teeth down until they bled, knowing I should just get her help. Knowing that I should move on and forget about it before it spiraled into something I couldn't control. But something wouldn't let me.

If I walked away from this, how long would it be before they did the same to another girl? Or to her again?

"Maybe next time they aren't so nice."

Maybe next time they kill her.

...If it wasn't me...

"Then it'd just be someone else walking away next time." Having stood and watched only to let it happen again. And so I did exactly what I wish someone had done for me when my father abandoned me so that the forest might take me away, to have my life stolen by some wicked beast. It hadn't then, and it wouldn't take hers.

I tore my hand from her grasp and moved in on them, flipping the bottle around as I quickly approached the slow drunks. I forgot entirely what drink was in it as I grabbed onto the shoulder of one of the larger men to the far right, yanking him back to his surprise right before everything went black and red.

I'd smashed the bottle right against his head, breaking it open with a noisy crash as he buckled under his own weight, falling onto the side of his face where shards of glass had been logged in, only pushing them in further. He didn't stir or howl in pain after hitting the pavement. I doubted he'd be walking it off so soon, if at all ever again, but there was no concern for him anywhere in my thoughts, or for what happened to any of them.

They hadn't realized what had happened yet. All the middle one had seen was his drinking buddy fall, only when he looked back to see why his friend had lagged that he saw what had happend, but I'd already thrown my right leg back, planting it across his face, a loud crack following suit as he fell to his knees, unsure of what had happened, numbed to any real pain. He'd feel it in a moment, I promised him that.

It was only the last one that took any real notice of what was going on and who had attacked them, letting out a loud cry as he recoiled back from the sight of seeing both of his accomplices on the ground.

I didn't allow him any more time then that single instance of fear as I swarmed him, ramming into him with my forearm.

It was an easy enough task to push him back into the wall of the bar, but slitting his throat with the broken half of the bottle, along with his eyes and face, was an even easier one.

For good measure, I discard the broken glass, jamming it into his chest before my thumbs went to his eye sockets, pressing them in hard enough that I felt blood and juice leak, taking a hold of his head and bashing it against the bricks until a wet paste had covered them, releasing him as he fell down the wall, leaving a trail of black blood.

If he survived this, or could even remember it, he wouldn't be able to identify me, distorting my mouth into a familiar sadistic smile, normally only reserved for the dark thoughts that my family occupied.

As I stalked towards the other one, I briefly considered pulling my blade from its scabbard, but when I touched it, I could hear my own screams, telling me, almost begging me, to stop. 'You've done enough.' I heard myself say.

'They didn't deserve this much.'

I hissed at those thoughts that said I should stop and took my hand away from my sword. Though it was meant only for the man I once called my father, it reminded me all too well of what I still was; I was still human, and the sword told me a story, that no matter what I did, there was a point in my life I was a scared child, begging and crying for a family that hadn't wanted it.

"The only difference is," I said as I approached the second man I'd attacked, the only one of them most likely to still be alive, grabbing onto his shirt as I pushed him over, stepping onto his chest as I looked him in the eyes, dazed and just as filled with fear as the girl that he had attacked had. "Is that no one came for me." No one heard my cries.

I raised my hand left hand, positioning his head so it was just right, and stuck the bridge of his nose with an open palm.

It disappeared with a sickening crunch as the bones shattered, and his breathing stopped all at once. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped lifelessly.

I don't know if I'd ignored his pleading, or if I'd even heard it, but any last words he might have said had been lost on me. The only thing I knew for sure was that in his final moments, he hadn't looked at me like I was a child.

He'd looked at me like I was a monster.

I breathed hard and labored gasps as I stepped back, looking at the scene of horror before my eyes fell upon my own hands, seeing them red and bruised, the realization of what I'd done starting to dawn on me. I tried to push that away. I had too.

I tried to occupy myself as I turned back towards the girl they'd attacked, telling myself to see what they'd done to her to remind myself they'd deserved it, but looking at her and seeing it with thoughts not clouded by rage, her injures were almost nothing compared to what I'd inflicted.

Any fear she'd had after the attack was replaced by a deep horror of me and my actions, scrambling back some as I approached. Almost afraid I'd do the same thing again, only to her. A mad demon come to claim its next victim.

I couldn't find it in myself to say she was wrong to think that. I hadn't saved her, I'd only shown her a greater darkness.

I wanted to assure her that I wouldn't harm her, but there was no way I could word it to convince her otherwise.

A moment passed, and I felt a wave of pain flood my body, dragging me down as the effects of the alcohol wore off. I didn't just come down, I fucking crashed and burned. Like every drop in my system suddenly burned away all at once in my rage.

My hand was broken and mangled, having shattered who knew how many bones with that hit, but that was nothing compared to what my foot felt like.

I'd never really seriously broken anything. Not like this.

Thousands of needles seemed to pierce my hand and foot as I tried to get myself up. This was essentially a crime scene, and any law enforcement that happened by wouldn't be good for me. Maybe they wouldn't assume the 8 year old was the dastardly culprit of a possible triple assault/homicide, but they definitely wouldn't just let me leave, not with my injuries. And I wasn't stupid enough to raise the issue, I knew I wasn't in any condition for another round, so I would make no attempt to resist.

Lucky, any on lookers had fled right before the fighting had started, meaning they'd left the girl to be attacked, so it was just me and the mute girl.

I wanted to reach out for her to help me walk, but my vision gradually left me, until everything was a gray blurr.

"Don't black out..." I whispered roughly as I pulled myself together, forcing myself to move.

"Don't...Fucking..." I let out a defeated sigh as my body tensed up, and I fell harshly. No more fighting, and no burning anger to keep me moving.

The last thing I heard before everything went silent was the static ringing in my ears, and footsteps approaching that were muffled by it.


	3. Times to run, pause, and those inbetween

**When Snow Falls: Apprenticeship.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3.**

* * *

 **A Stranger named Alex.**

* * *

I was adrift in a violent sea, unable to fight against the growing power and ferocity of the stormy waves as they churned and spat angrily, feeling my own strength leave me the more saltwater I drank in, growing sick and weak as the foul tasting liquid took hold of my throat. The most disturbing aspect of this was that when I looked around, I found many shadowed figures gathered in the heavens, none of them extending their hand, as there was a glee in their eyes. I was watching those of my family surround me on all sides, laughing and refusing to help someone they had cast aside, content with being a watcher as I spat at each of them, yelling every nasty curse I could think of. Watching me as I tried to drag their little night out. If my death was going to be their sick entertainment, then it was gonna be a long show.

This was their impossible challenge to me before they'd thrown me into the waters; to drink the entire ocean before I drowned, forced to comply as I was going to die no matter what I did. I could sink and give them the satisfaction, or keep my head above the surface and curse their names to hell as I slowly sank. My struggle nearing its end.

As I looked up through the stinging water, my gaze rested on my father, and strangely enough, he was the only one of them not laughing, no joy of this in his expression. He did nothing still, but I almost thought I could see tears, adding a flood of them to the ocean killing me. He may not have meant it, or wanted it, but he was killing me. I'd known nothing but contempt for this man. So why did I dream this way?

As my eyes closed and I fell into a deeper darkness, everything became a silent slosh as the ocean calmed itself, feeling cold as my breathing relaxed. Then nothing more as I woke, finding myself in a large bed, one or three times too big for me.

Though I'd woke from a nightmare, I did not gasp for air or thrash about in fear as I had done before coming to terms with my life, for I knew no such thing when it came to my family. I was no longer afraid of what had happened, and now I only knew rage because of it. What always perplexed me was the recurring element, to see my father not sharing in the festive celebrating of watching me drown. I only ever saw regret in his eyes, but he never did anything to stop it. The fault was still his to share.

Shaking off my restless sleep, I looked towards a window near the bed, seeing that the sun had just started to rise. Something else on the nightstand caught my eye, grabbing off of it a bottle of the same kind of cinnamon whiskey I'd wasted last night; a replacement for the one I'd smashed into a couple of fucking drunks, making a smile creep across my face as I thought about popping it open for a sip, considering I hadn't really gotten any out of the last one, but decided I wasn't in the mood for it.

As I placed it back down, I finally noticed that I wasn't alone in the room, glancing over to a corner in the room where a face I recognized sat in a chair, silently staring at me, having not wanted to disturb me as I came too. I was a bit angry over being watched during my sleep, as they would have seen me suffer through my nightmare.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her as I looked away, almost not able to meet her gaze directly in a kind of shame over what I'd done in front of her.

I didn't so much regret what I had done to all three of them, I just regretted I'd done it out of uncontrolled rage and that she'd watched it happen. If I was going to go on a killing spree, I didn't want to be lost in a blood rage. Maybe there was some guilt that I'd essentially killed three people in a drunken stupor, but I didn't think much of it. Maybe they didn't necessarily deserve that level of violence, but I wasn't going to cry over it. It was done with, and I couldn't nor would take it back. They certainly couldn't regret what they had done, why should I?

She immediately stood up from her chair, still somewhat timid to be standing there with me as she began to sign. 'I was just checking on your bandages.' She said before her hands went down to her sides, a blush breaking out over her face as she tried not to meet my gaze.

"You patch me up?" I asked her as I grabbed my shoulder and stretched it out, grimacing some as my left arm was still injured; My hand most likely broken, along with my right leg and foot as I still walked with a fair amount of pain, though not enough to hamper me entirely.

'Partway. My aunt did most of it.' She signed as quickly as I could speak before she handed me the clothes I'd worn during the incident, freshly scrubbed clean and free of the blood and dirt that had covered it. "Who's your aunt?" I asked as I dressed, as slow as I could be, pulling them across each of my injured extremities with whatever care my slightly hungover self-was capable of, wondering who'd be selfless enough to take in some random kid off of the streets, especially one that had just finished beating three men to death. I guess it wouldn't be hard to do, if they'd believed I'd been protecting her. But she and I both knew that wasn't the case. I'd passed up my chance to keep her safe when I'd done nothing when I first saw her.

She had turned away some the moment I'd thrown the covers off of me and began to dress, so I'd had to get her attention. She did it not out of embarrassment, as neither of us seemed to care that I was nearly nude, her reasons entirely obvious, but more so because she didn't want to be rude and stare at the various scars that hung along my body like festive ornaments, the disturbing sight of my injuries equal to the beauty they held. 'She own's the bar and the hotel.' She told me only after I was dressed. I took no offense to her having not wanted to look at me in the event she caught a glimpse of the most terrible of scars that I had, as I didn't much enjoy seeing them either.

I understood a little better why I'd been given help now, having promised my help to the woman in the first place. I also understood now why the girl was a prostitute if the same lecherous woman I'd met last night was her caretaker. She already seemed like she'd take every angle she had to make a profit, and this confirmed it even more so. As was my disgust with her.

I felt like it wasn't my place to judge their situations, but that didn't mean I wouldn't, especially if hers in anyway included being outnumbered and beaten by drunks.

I think she saw what thoughts I had of her in my mind and expressed her own. She didn't have a right to judge any more than I did, but like I, she did not care. 'You didn't need to involve yourself like that, and you really shouldn't have done what you did. Two of those men died, and that third is in a coma he's not likely to wake from.' She said with a coldness to her stare, as though she had not cared what they'd done, making me twitch in a slight anger. peering down at the ground as I tried to justify myself. "They got what they deserved after what they did. You should be thanking me." I told her as I finally looked at her, a darkness in mine to match her cold.

'But you weren't doing it to protect me. It was already over and they were walking away. You walked away too, if you remember.' She reminded me, which she was right on. It hadn't been about protecting her anyway. "And now they won't be doing it again, will they?" I said, not as a question, but as a fact. They'd never raise a hand to anyone ever again.

'And what about their families? People that depend on them? What happens to them when they found that husbands or fathers or sons suddenly never come home.' She asked me as she pushed closer, looking at me hard in my eyes, and for a moment, her words cut deep enough for me to consider them. "T-Then they're better off without such trash in their lives," I said unconvincingly, as though I'd done people I didn't know a service. 'Alcohol does terrible things to people, makes good men violent and rash. Who they were that night doesn't reflect who they might have been now,' she said as she looked at me like I was a child, and for an instant, I shrank back. 'We all have our dark moments. Our moments of cruelty, that doesn't mean we deserve to die for them. That just makes us human.'

No other words she had signed had more of an effect on me than these ones now, just not in the way she would have expected as I stood back up, my body suddenly seething with rage. "And that excuses us does it?" I said as I walked forward, pushing her back away from me enough that she nearly fell. "I'm supposed to excuse every moment ever just because we occasionally do something fucked up to each other?"

She suddenly became gripped by fear, so much so that her hands wouldn't move to sign. "There are limits! There's fucking over a friend, and there's murdering a Stranger in cold blood!" I screamed out, unaware of the volume of my voice as it rang throughout the room. "There's having dark thoughts, but the line is acting on them! Raping! Murder! Beating the shit out of a girl in a back alley! These are where you cross the line!"

Maybe it was a double standard that I was preaching about how wrong murder was wrong, but I never said what I did was right. It was wrong no matter who hands it came from. My reasons had just been different. "There's neglecting your child, and then there's abandoning them in a forest! That monster in the dark they were afraid of suddenly becomes their own mother and father!" That was the moment I realized I'd gone over the edge, having let myself get too emotional. I finally saw the fear in her eyes, only now I was seeing a reflection of my younger self in hers, seeing her pressed against the nightstand, gripping it as though she'd expected me to strike her and she was prepared.

I hated how easily this girl made me feel shame, something I didn't normally get about any of my actions, feeling it burn as I pulled back away from her before I did something I'd really regret, hard for breath and looking towards my sword stashed away in the corner of the room as I let my anger and sorrow flow into it, directing everything I felt towards the blade, letting it take away my insanity as a clear mind found its way back to me. It was the only anchor I had to keep me stable. It wasn't the most healthy thing for me to tether myself too, but it finally brought me back as I realized she probably wouldn't understand my anger, and it wasn't fair of me to treat her like she knew my past, as I didn't know hers.

I fell back onto the bed as I turned away from her, gripping my hair tightly to fight back tears as everything came crashing down on me. And here I sat, thinking I'd gotten past it all. I realized I'd just fooled myself into believing I wasn't as affected by it as I'd thought. It was a bigger part of me then I let on, and more than I wanted it to be. There wasn't an escape from it for me. Not yet.

She stared at me strangely as my anger seemed to have faded as easily as it had come, now just seeing how torn I was inside, careful as she approached and sat beside me, not able to find the words to sign to make me feel right. I wouldn't have seen them anyway, too stricken with pent-up guilt and false acceptance to look up, and her too scared to place a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. So we sat in silence for a long while, both left to our own thoughts of what to say and how to say them.

Finally, she worked up the courage to lay a comforting hand on me, and I did not recoil from her touch as I looked up to her, surprising us both. My eyes were red from the strain, still not having cried though. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know.' She signed to me with her right hand, her left on my shoulder still. There was sweetness to her gaze that I'd never known another person to give me. "Why would you? You only have your experience to draw on. I don't know yours either, but I acted like I did." I said before a smile was found where a frown had been, actually feeling my spirit lift.

It was, in a very poor choice of words, infectious enough to give her one as well, sharing it as she turned more to face me. 'I'm Allie Graemoor.' She introduced herself to me as we both warmed up to each other in the small moment of understanding after, despite the rocky start. She seemed to have forgiven me. "Alex," I said after her. "Alex Sinbad." I hadn't forgotten my true name, but I'd long since discarded it. Made it easier to distance myself from who I was before.

"Graemoor huh?" I asked as I looked at her brunette hair, chuckling a bit. "Misleading name." It made her laugh a silent giggle as she ran her fingers through a few locks. 'Dye it.'

We continued to talk from there, finding out more and more of the other as we eventually laid on the bed together, inches apart and talking all the while. For a time, we avoided more personal questions out of respect, not wanting to pry into things that might ruin the moment, but she already had a guess about my own history from my outburst, while I knew nothing of hers. Until I finally started to ease my way into it. "If I can ask, what brought you into your...Line of work?" I said, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

She frowned some and sat up, and immediately I became afraid, as I knew I didn't have any right to ask, about to apologize before she signed. I don't think she was made, just in thought. 'It wasn't so much a choice I made as much as it was the only option I had.' She explained to me, thinking back to everything she'd done. 'My parents were dead. And I only had my aunt. And there wasn't much other work for me. Nobody seemed to want me in anything else. This town has a way of pushing you into what it wants.'

I sat myself up beside her, finding out she was just as helpless every day as she had been the previous night. And it wasn't right. "I don't believe that. That it's your only option I mean," I told as she cast a strange look at me, like no one had ever told her this. "My parents left me for dead, because they didn't think I was worth anything." I finally told her more. "The world told me what it wanted. It wanted me to stop trying and just die. And here I am, years later, still going."

I took her hand into my own, all the better to get my point across. "Sure, the world has a way of beating you down into what it wants. That's not gonna change. But fuck the world and the people in it."

She smiled some at this, as though it was a nice thought, but one she didn't believe in. "You got the shit knocked out of you by a couple of drunks. What kind of life is that?"

'Mine. And it's the only one I have.'

She tried to look away again, but I got my free hand on her chin and kept her looking at me, not allowing her to turn away again. "Then make a better one." Her hand was on mine after I'd whispered this, thinking she was about to tear mine off to get away, but she just held it in hers as we looked at the other, not wanting to let go. I felt her heart quicken some.

All was quiet for just a moment before she moved closer, pressing her lips and her chest against mine in a single, fluid motion, taking me by surprise as I'd had no expectation and been given no warning. As she fell into the kiss, it took me a minute longer before I did as well, lost only in the passion of it. I think we both needed to forget our troubles for a minute or two, and mine seemed to easily melt away from my mind.

She was careful in helping me undress, on account of my still broken arm and leg, and I in turn, was soft with her. Though her injuries weren't as severe as my almost self-inflicted ones, meaning there was no real need to be, I couldn't imagine anyone had ever been gentle with her, and I think she needed that as much as I did. To know it wasn't something that had to be forced on her.

With a quick toss of the covers, we slipped deeper into the bed, finding some needed peace with each other, as there was nothing as in the world but her. Not even my vengence, or the drive for it.


	4. Shadows aren't always dark

**When Snow Falls: The Apprenticeship.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4.**

* * *

 **A Stranger named Alex.**

* * *

We laid together for a time in a sweet bliss I'd never known, uninterrupted all the while during, as if the rest of the world stopped had existing altogether. I found it easy enough to forget about it and that I hadn't really cared that it had, not having taken much for me to push away even my murderous drive, surprised that I could become as deeply lost in something as I had with Allie, her having the power to just take it all away from me. It didn't feel wrong to forget all of my clan, like it was always something I could do but didn't have the strength to do so. She'd given me that strength. I didn't feel as broken as I usually did, not ever had I believed I could be this whole. I'd been with others before, sure, but never like this, nothing that ever made me feel some semblance of peace.

It didn't make it any more special or meaningful than any time before it, but there was more of a connection to her than I normally had with others, as I hadn't ever gotten close enough to anybody for any real attachment to take hold. Well...there was one person, when I was about 6 and just a cracked shell from being exiled, but that wasn't something entirely fond to think about. But it wasn't entirely terrible either, it had just left me with a feeling of having been used. It just felt easier to focus on carving a bloodied path back to my clan without anything else to steal my thoughts away from it. I only just now realized how little it took to do that. And I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. It felt good to know something like this, but I worried that she was wrong for me in a healthy way, if there was even room for her on the road back home.

I looked at the girl I'd taken to bed with me, slumbering a few minutes after we had done what we needed, my right arm wrapped around her as she slept softly on my chest, brushing away a few loose locks of her hair before I pulled my hand back after wincing some, having almost forgotten about how much it still hurt and wondering why the hell I'd even bothered, feeling cliche as I slowly lifted my arm up from under her and put a pillow in its place as I got up, sliding my legs off of the bed as quietly as I could as a blend of confusing feelings hit me. I needed to be left in my lonesome to think, and having her as a distraction wasn't something I that would help me.

I only pulled on my pants after I'd stood, just for the sake of modesty though dressing no further, stretching out with a relaxed popping of my arms and neck as I walked over towards the window, leaning against it as my thoughts became clouded some, my forehead touching the cold glass, and that soothing me some. I smiled as I peered out towards the snow-covered town, finding it a comforting sight that eased the conflict.

I hadn't ever seen snow before I'd come here in my search, or ever felt a place as fucking cold. But I almost didn't mind most days. The snow and ice did what my sword could and provided me something to soothe my nerves, while my blade just kept me humbled as I remembered what the meaning behind it carried, this was a much healthier symbol. This place was good for me.

I puffed out some hot hair onto the window, fogging a large part of it up before I ran my finger across it, creating various shapes in it, particularly stars. I wasn't any good at it, every time I ever drew a star, it always came out wonky and misshapen, but I had my fun trying to get better at it. It was the only thing that made me think of my family that didn't piss me off, from a time when we were actually happy. Before I learned how things were.

I'd make stars out of just about everything I could have gotten my hands on when I was younger; paper, clothes, grass. It got me into trouble, like when I'd draw on walls or books, but it never dampened my spirit, and I continued to do so. It had gotten to the point that my father got me just piles of scrolls to scribble on, telling me they were for my art, in place of a free inch of wall unclaimed. I'd gone through them all in about a week before I was back to the walls, and my parents gave up on trying and even punishing me for it. It wasn't long before we even stopped cleaning the walls entirely. Shitty little stars covered the house.

I remembered how my older brother would join me from time to time, whenever he was done training it was right to my side. We did plenty of things like that. I did it out of childhood innocence, and I think he did it because he just thought it was funny. Whatever he did he knew was wrong, but it was always what I wanted to do when I wanted to play, especially when it pissed people off.

I brought my knees to my chest, staring out the window and wondering which way home was, almost feeling a longing for it, even though I did not remember much of what the land looked like, I could still think of some of my family before without any rage, but I hadn't thought about my brother in years, and sometimes, I either forgot about him, or just didn't think about him at all. Any love for my family felt foreign no matter who was in my thoughts, but I couldn't lie and say there wasn't some there that lingered for those that had actually been kind, however few there might have been. And none had been more so than my brother, even when the rest of our clan scorned and berated me with abusive words and actions, there was always him, and for a time, my mother and father, but gradually, their protection had faded, eventually even his. It wasn't until the waning days of my time with the Nakajima that I'd never felt so alone, and I'd only understood why after I'd been sent into exile. Why their love had suddenly left me.

I'd forgotten what he looked like, his face only blank when I tried to think back, but I could still remember his smile well enough, that had never left me. I wondered what his reaction had been when he learned I was gone. I hoped he'd been upset and angry beyond belief for a time, and maybe had gone off to find me once or twice, but I had no doubt that he soon grew to hate me, as our clan would have corrupted him into their ways until there was only Nakajima. There was no telling what crimes he'd committed in their name, no choice but to do as they commanded him, if it even felt like a real choice to him.

It was strange to consider, for how angered I was because of it, but I knew that if I had stayed with the clan, that mentality of theirs that let them live with killing their own young children would be mine, to hate and despise those weaker than myself. But in other ways, I was glad, because there wouldn't be anyone to stand against them and their tyranny if I hadn't been forced out. I understood enough of what they were to know. And as much as I pitied my brother for having been unfortunate to have been born into a shit life with me, I was sure he was thinking the same thing about me, and that I was dealt a bad fate. I could only extend so much understanding, and if he had grown to become more like them, then he'd fall just like the rest. I'd do what I had too. They were dark conquers that wanted the world to kneel to them, but no man or woman would ever bow to them so long as I had breath in my lungs and a sword in my hand.

I wouldn't allow the wheel of violence and hate to continue in this age, not from my own clan. I wouldn't just take the wheel and smash it; I'd burn it to fucking ashes. I'd take my clan's false honour and build upon it anew. No one would ever be put through the trials I had ever again. If my brother got in my way, my blade would taste his blood.

I started to flash a dark grin as it seemed my insanity was slowly returning to me, but it felt different this time around, I didn't reject it as I had many times before, only this time, when my reflection smiled back at me the window splintered into dozens of cracks, startling me as I fell away from it, and suddenly I remembered why I was always afraid of the voices in my head, my hands shaking as I covered my face. Nothing had changed much. I was still me, and the fucking world was still shit.

I sat there in a huddled silence, taking some comfort in that Allie wasn't awake to see me like this, so I was still alone for the time being, my face in my knees as I wrapped my arms around myself, not allowing myself to feel much more than what I was. Any more than that and I was afraid I'd descend further into the depths of my mind, being on the outside of my thoughts was terrifying enough without diving in any deeper. That's where 'He' was. And I'd chosen to ignore him a long time ago.

Yet there were just some demons we faced, whether we liked it or not, and mine always had a habit of clawing their way out into the light. No matter how hard I tried to keep them away.

"Hello, brother," Said the deadman with venom as I opened my eyes to a much darker version of what reality was to me, decrepitated and rundown with darkness and blood staining the walls, hauntingly demonic faces leering down menacingly, heavily distorted until they no longer resembled anything close to being human. Sharp fangs and lizard-like eyes gazing past me, like they couldn't even see me.

I looked up and saw one face in particular that stared back at me, eyes blackened and soulless, a dark mirror reflecting back how twisted I saw the world. This wasn't the first time I'd come here. His was the voice I so often argued with aloud, having found out a long time ago that it wasn't just a voice in the back of my head. The fucker took form in certain moments, specifically my darkest.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?" He asked with a devilish grin, hiding a wickedly cruel charm behind his eyes and a silver tongue as he spoke.

I stood up as I looked past him towards the bed, the sleeping Allie seen, but only as a glowing mass of light. I was only ever alone in this place. All except for him.

"What? Not very talkative today are we?" He asked as he stalked around me, his black eyes watching me intently, following my movement as I walked to the window and saw the hellish landscape the land had become. "Thinking about your family?" He asked with a grin as he sat down on the bed. "Nothing else brings you here."

"You know what I think, you live in my fucking head," I said with a harsh tone as I glared at him.

"I have a general idea. I can't read it entirely, despite what you might think. Just bits and pieces of the jumbled up mess that is your mind," He told me mockingly as his grin grew, stretching more than what it should have been able too.

"Take me back," I told him as he stood by my side. "Not how this works, I'm afraid."

I pressed my forehead against the window with a silent rage, clenching my fist as I walked away. I might have been stuck here, but that didn't mean I had to stand there and take his bullshit.

He forced a laugh out as he followed along out of the room. "Whats the matter sweetie, that time of the month already?"

I immediately turned back and faced him, almost swinging my fist. "You got anything better to do than talk my ear off?" I shouted as I stepped forward, and he made no motion to move back, unafraid of my outburst, though he lost his smile. "Well, I'd settle on beating you to death, but I'm sure I'd just be trading one hell for another. And it's not like I have a lot else to do, trapped in here and all." He hissed in anger as he stood ready for me, but I didn't flinch away. "Maybe hell is where you belong!"

"Whats that say about you then?" We were both in the others face, glaring back at each other, our eyes reflecting this endlessly. "That I'd be better off without you, the manifestation of everything wrong with me?"

I appeared to have finally said something that visibly wounded him, because god's know I hadn't ever been able to do it physically, and not just because he was only in my head. And up until now, he'd never actually tried to harm me either, but nothing really lasted forever. No truce or peace ever did.

He raised his hand with as an unforgivable rage twisted in his expression, and a deeper fear than I'd ever felt took mine, his hand slamming into my chest as inhuman strength ran through the rest of his body, throwing me across the room as easy as wind pushing around paper.

I became dazed from the strike, blood that dripped into my eyes blinding me but I couldn't raise my arms to wipe it off, this having turned into the kind of nightmare where I couldn't move my body. Suddenly I felt his hand around my throat, clamping down on it with heavily reduced strength, to prevent himself from accidentally snapping my neck from the force. My body was paralyzed, from both pain and fear, but I could still tell he'd lifted me into the air and pushed me further against the wall. When the blood washed itself away, I was peering down into his eyes once more, only seeing a darker rage than I'd ever felt in his, seeing how tempted he was to finish what he'd started.

"I'm whats wrong with you? I'm whats wrong with you!?" He asked as his grip tightened, his eyes leaking out drops of darkness that sizzled away when they touched the ground. I'd have wondered if they were what his tears looked like if he hadn't been chocking the life out of me. It was almost pitiable, everything he did was terrifying in one way or another.

"I'm what's kept us alive all these years!" He shouted as he slammed me repeatedly into the wall, clenching his fist in fury. "Its been you and your fucking hate and vengeance that's nearly killed us half a dozen times! You lose yourself in your anger and I have to fight to keep us alive! I'm stuck here because of you! In this void of twisted reality that you've trapped me in! I'm what's wrong with you? You're everything wrong with me and I swear to every god out there I'd fucking kill you right now if I actually could!" He finally let me drop to the ground, more so because he didn't want to test the limit on his restraint as a black aura that could rival hell emitted from his body, trying to catch his breath.

I coughed hard as I held my throat, surprised he hadn't crushed my windpipe, barely able to croak out a few words. "What...Is...Your problem?" I said as I wiped away blood that leaked out with every breath I took. "What do you want from me?"

He appeared in front of me in a flash, his fist putting a hole through the wall beside my head, but at that point, after seeing his worst, there was nothing else he could do to scare me any more than he already had. "I want it to stop!" He yelled as loudly as he could. "I've spent an eternity in this forsaken place! I won't spend an eternity longer because of your addiction to revenge!"

His gaze suddenly softened as he pulled back, pity in his eyes for me. "It's time to end it, Alex. This self-destructive path you walk. You won't find anything good at the end of it all."

It felt strange to be lectured by your own inner darkness. And suddenly I felt a massive wave of guilt for his existence. In no way would I have thought that I could affect him in any way. I'd always thought that he was what drove me forward, why I hated my family the way I did and why I couldn't let it go. And I'd hated him for that for the longest time. I really didn't have any excuse for the way I'd lived my life. I was beside the only person who knew me better than I did.

"Don't you want it to stop? That hate drains you, I can feel it every time you let it take control." He said in a more friendly tone as he kneeled down, slowly sitting with me. "I know you're tired. Of the constant self-loathing and hatred. And you know what the worst part of it all is, Alex?"

I wanted to look away from him, but something wouldn't let me. I needed to hear what he had to tell me, but there was only silence that followed. "You don't hate them."


	5. The candle or the mirror reflecting it

**When Snow Falls: Apprenticeship.**

* * *

 **A Stranger named Alex.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5.**

* * *

I threw myself away from the dark Specter in a furious outrage that threatened to turn savage, storming away to the other side of the room just to get as far from him as I could before I did something we'd both end up regretting, feeling anger twist in me until it boiled every drop of my blood, processing what he'd just told me and the end result being my almost wanting to pretend I hadn't even heard it, but I wasn't a Stranger to harsh truths, yet this was something much worse. "Bull fucking shit!" I screamed when I turned back to face him, angry that he was trying to tell me what it was I felt as he got back up to his own feet with me, a softer look on his face than mine was as our roles reversed, and I was suddenly the one gripped by darkness, twisted by my hate, trying to keep me calm after telling me this revelation of his. "Don't you dare tell me what I think about them or that man!" I yelled out with a thunderous tone and an accusing finger pointed towards him before slamming my fist into the shadowed walls that had been built from the dark depths of my mind just to contain the brimming psychotic rage I felt, being pushed to the limits of what they were capable of handling as they cracked from the sheer pressure of my collapsing mental stability, not crazed enough to attack him, yet found myself slowly approaching that point the more we spoke, actually frightening him for a split moment before he found his nerve once again, reminding himself that he was stronger of the two of us, and that he was capable of keeping me in check, that was his job after all. He didn't have to be afraid. So long as we were in this cage he was in control. He was where all my power was, and he never gave me more than I needed. But if he didn't calm me now, I'd bring this entire place down on top of us and unleash it all. Who knew what effects that would have on my mind, or where it would send us. He was trapped here, sure, but when I was sent here when I needed to be, I could start to understand where his resentment came from, the only difference was that he was here more by choice, even if it was one he wasn't happy with, doing what he could to keep me under control. This place was made for when I was close to becoming lost, and he was here to try and bring me back to whatever best passed for a clear mind. He wasn't exactly trapped here like I was, so in the end he was the warden of it.

"There is a big difference between anger and hate, Alex." He said as he shifted to the side, avoiding whatever it was that I'd grabbed in my blinded state and tossed at him. I think it had been a chair, but I didn't bother to pay attention when it shattered into pieces, not able to discern what it had been before. It was a really good thing this wasn't the real world, else I'd be paying for it out of my own pocket, and that was money I just didn't have. "Then elaborate, please!" I told him through gritted teeth, turning around to calm myself, clenching my fist as tight as I could until my fingers started to bleed, pressing my forehead against the cold bedroom wall, not wanting to have this discussion. Now or ever.

He approached small step by small step, trying to give me some space as best he could, choosing his words as carefully as he would walking barefoot through a field of serrated glass blindfolded. "You're angry at them, and rightfully so. You may not even hold much love for them. I get that, bring yourself to hate them if it helps dull the pain. But hate takes work and effort. Work and effort that you have to put in to maintain it, especially years later," He said as I became silent, trying to block him out. The child in me wanted to put my hands to my ears and ignore him, but that just wasn't me. "And that's the thing, there were good times before it happened. And you still cling to them, I know you do. You weren't always the product of their failings. At the beginning, yes, the line between the two was so blurred you couldn't see the difference, there may not have even been one. But as time went on, you had to make yourself hate them, because it was all you would let yourself believe. You had to keep up the barrier because you couldn't do it for much longer, even more so when you let it be the only thing that kept you alive. Long enough that who you were before was nothing but a shadow of who you are now."

As I was silent, he started to get close enough to that he could reach out and touch my shoulder, but he still refrained from doing so. I wasn't too sure if he was just saying this for my benefit or his. What did it even matter? I was listening to every word.

"Get to the point," I said with those same steeled nerves as I turned back to face him, my expression not as hard as it had been moments ago, making him put his hands up defensively. "It's okay to be angry at them, and to want justice. But you don't have to let it consume you. What they did doesn't have to be the core of who you are."

Suddenly whatever anger that might have lingered within left me, and the world in my mind had a bit of light break through, not as dark as I had believed. And I suppose neither was he, and because of the fact that he was a reflection of myself, neither was I, I suppose. But what he was suggesting, I didn't know if it was something I could commit too after so long. Or if I even wanted to try. "You're not gonna tell me some bullshit like how it doesn't have to define me?" I asked as I turned away to the window again, seeing that some of the shadows had been chased away, looking more like the world again.

He only shook his head, not going to feed me that tired line. He had something a little new planned. "No. Because it does define you, and it always will. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. You learned from what they did and you'll continue to learn from it. And when you lead that bloody charge and take the Nakajima, you'll teach those same lessons."

I couldn't help but smile some as I felt myself loosen up immensely. "You're not gonna try and talk me down from going after them?" He shook his head, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed. "I wouldn't even try. Nothing could keep you from that and we both know it. The best thing that I can do is get us there alive and strong enough for that confrontation. How we do that and how long it takes and how well we're prepared...well... That part is up to you,"

I slowly turned back to face him with some brand new kind of understanding for him, though I was still confused by what seemed like a sudden change of heart. "Why do you talk like we aren't the same person?" I asked him, and he didn't even take a moment to ponder it. "Because we aren't, Alex. I was just something that took form when you were alone and needed someone to keep you alive, but I'm more than your shadow now." He said as a smile found its way to his face, and it somehow found its way to my expression as well as I extended my arm out, and we took the other's forearm in a warrior's gesture. "I don't think I ever properly thanked you for that."

"You never needed too, brother, I never needed it." He told me as he shook on some new form of understanding between us before we took our arms back, finally making the rest of the darkened room regain its colour, my time spent without clarity at an end, overwhelming wraith and rage overcome by a sense of peace that I hadn't ever felt, and with it almost a renewal of my soul. And with that, the world became white as it began to vanish.

"If I don't lose my mind anymore, doesn't that mean I won't see you?" I asked as our bodies slowly seemed to fade away, a slight hint of concern found in my voice, yet there wasn't any such worry in him, a warmer kind of smile on his face. "I'll still be floating around in the back of your thoughts constantly giving you hell about the choices you make. I'm my own man after all. That, and just because you might get that anger towards your family under lock and key doesn't mean you aren't still a fucking homicidal maniac. You're a long ways from recovering from that, brother. It might not be too long before you get pushed over the edge in a back alley and end up killing a couple of poor drunk fucks again."

I closed my eyes for a quick moment before peering down with a kind of shame over it, but I didn't let it linger for long. Maybe I had gone several leagues above what was deserved, but I didn't find myself regretting what I had done, still just shame I'd done it uncontrolled. Maybe they'd deserved it, and maybe they hadn't, it was too late to take back what I'd done. "Fair enough," I told him with sigh out, finding him placing a hand on my shoulder. "What you did doesn't make you evil, Alex. Sure, it wasn't exactly right. Killing never is for any reason," He told me as I glanced up, confused. "Thanks...?"

"But...What sets you apart is your reason for it. When it becomes too easy though, when you do it without any thought, that's when you start to worry. And that's what I'm here to bring you back from."

I didn't really have the words to express the gratitude I should have shown, and even if I had managed to find them it would have been too late, watching as the smiling mirror image finally faded into nothing, and I was free of it once more, still feeling echoes of our discussion all the while I came out of the trance, letting out what felt like a long-held breath as my body relaxed, shaking off the aches from how tense I had been as I stood, having to rub my eyes just to start wetting them again, everything down to my breathing feeling as though I'd had to do it manually. It had felt like a dream just woken from, but still conscious of the world around me at the same time. Had I just stared at the window the entire time?

I wondered how long I'd been out, feeling as if hours had passed, but looking over towards the Allie on the bed, I found she was still sleeping herself. Much couldn't have passed, as the light shining through hadn't seemed to have moved an inch, but it wasn't as if I'd memorized every little detail before I'd slipped into my head. I really couldn't be sure how much time had passed, but that started to seem less important when I noticed the state of the window I'd peered out of, still terribly splintered into a dozen or so more cracks. That part hadn't changed. That wouldn't be too hard to explain in any case, I'd either chalk it up to a crazed time with Allie, or the fridged cold. I'd been here long enough to learn glass didn't last too long in these conditions. Apparently, it was a popular craft here in Snowfall with as often as window's needed to be replaced. Hopefully, I wouldn't be paying for it though. But I don't think I had that kind of luck on my side.

I carefully laid back down beside her, not just to avoid waking her for a while longer, but because it was hard to lower myself down with a single arm when my left was still throbbing, and being a touch bit hungover didn't help much. It still seemed early, and I didn't actually have anything to do, so for the moment I could sleep longer and enjoy the peace while it lasted, really hoping that this time around it was something that would last. Part of me knew it wouldn't, that I should be prepared for the inevitable event that it all came crashing down around me, but another part told it to shut the fuck up, it was trying to sleep. Eventually, all became a pleasant silence, only the howling wind and the soft patter of the snow hitting the broken window heard, lulling me into a deeper sleep as I huddled against Allie, not afraid to be vulnerable, for short while anyway. We all needed rest from time to time. And it didn't feel so bad to let my guard down this time.

* * *

Allie and I were making our way down the old staircase that lead from the apartments on the second and third floors after she'd woken up, careful to dress as she still had her own injuries to tend too before she'd managed to actually get me out of bed from my return to sleep, with her having no idea of the events before that, something about as easy as stirring a bear from hibernation, remembering to be a touch more careful on me than she was with her own body. She wouldn't be by my side any longer in slumber so there wouldn't be any real point to lounging about when there were other things to do, like dealing with the possible fallout of what I'd done a night ago, and she'd even been nice enough to help me dress after seeing how difficult it was for me. It was a kind of awkward fun only youth could have, and a pleasant enough greeting we shared together when she'd stirred me up and having to dress me. Neither of us acted as if the night before hadn't meant anything more than sex and needed relief, but we could still act friendly enough towards one another to walk down together for breakfast. We didn't say much on the way down, which was easier for one of us than it was the other, still almost complete Strangers to one another with only a half basic knowledge on either and a full idea of what the other looked like and how they were in bed. Though she might have felt different, I didn't much mind. It felt kind of nice to be walking with someone else my own age to share a meal, and she smiled the entire way down, so I figured I'd done something right, both now and the night before. It brought a sense of normality that I'd realized I'd never really known, as I'd never settled down long enough in any one place to ever have that.

I hadn't noticed it at first, but as we walked down the steps of the old buildings great staircase, each time I looked at her I couldn't stop myself from myself from smiling a stupidly boyish smile at her. Every single god's damn time I had that look plastered on my expression, becoming only aware of it when she caught my staring, a smile on her own face that would have been accompanied by a giggle had she been able too, quickly forcing me to look away out of embarrassment with a nervous scratch behind my ear, keeping my eyes down and being more conscious of where I was looking.

'Smooth.' I heard that voice in the back of my head say teasingly, having to quickly tell myself I couldn't just tell him to fuck off out loud. Allie was mute, not deaf, and I think I'd already shown her enough of my twisted psyche and how broken it was with that blood rage last night without adding in a touch of psychosis into the mix. Gods know what she already thought of me as it was.

Despite all the hiccups and... a couple of bodies here and there...it wasn't completely awkward walking down with her, other than the usual one-night stand sense of regret and embarrassment that was. Waking up beside someone you didn't really know after having laid with them for a night certainly made for an interesting introduction, but there was still that sinking feeling in your stomach after it that made you feel kind of wrong that you'd done it.

Allie seemed nice enough, as far as people in her line of work went that was, that I decided I'd give her the benefit of the doubt and try to get to know her better before making any kind of judgment on how I should feel. I was gonna be here for a while anyone, both recovering and to undertake that job. It wouldn't hurt to know a few people here if I ever swung by again, spread my seed a little bit around and have something to retreat too. Any town I stopped by I usually did the same.

And I was only now realizing what exactly that sounded like, considering Allie and last night.

Phrasing aside, if she really did turn out to be someone I could at least tolerate, then all the better, and if not, I wouldn't feel so bad about trying to spin her tale to my advantage. She probably knew more about the townspeople than they'd like her to know. Lips became rather loose when you were in the middle of relief after all. And I was sure that kind of information might come in handy if I played it right.

Now, I wasn't setting out with her to manipulate her like I was making it sound, but it wouldn't hurt to have a kind of fall back in the event things didn't work out well.

But everything else besides finding Alastor Makuru was secondary. I couldn't afford to get caught up in all the rest of people's nonsense, I'd sure as hell done enough of that already.

Last night was nice and all, but in the long run, things like these would always be short term. If I let myself become any more invested, there was always that chance I put everything else aside for what I thought was just a moment, only to suddenly see myself having forgotten about it entirely.

 _'Do you really think these little distractions will change anything?'_ I heard him question me, those whispers within my skull crawling around with a harsh echo. This was nothing more than what it had been, nothing had changed.

 _'Then take comfort in these moment's, Alex. It is all this world will give you until it decides to rip it all away.'_ I heard him tell me, looking away from Allie so that when that time came I wouldn't see it. _'Never forget what you are, for the world will never let you.'_

A crooked smiled started to painfully form as I gave a small nod. I was a Sura, forever until I drove that blade through the man I once called my father's heart. This I had not forgotten.

 _'Make it your_ armour _, wear it for all to see, and it can never be a weapon turned against you.'_ Where once it had been a sword trained on me, in time I would make it my shield, until there wasn't a thing the world could that at me that I wouldn't be ready for.


End file.
